you know ever since listening to that last taz episode all i can think about is how the starblaster runs on bonds and even though lucretia was alone with a broken ship it still sailed and like… i can’t stop thinking about how either the bonds she has with her dead crewmates are so strong that it worked anyway or she just had a real good relationship with the fish
In this house, we have three cats. Bella and Kes are chill as fuck, and spend 90% of their time lounging, sleeping, or being aggressively snuggled.
Dauntless is exactly 0.05% chill by weight. Dude is 20 lbs of fite me in a 5 lb bag. He’ll go from “happily accepting pets” to “pointy mitten” on zero notice, on absolutely anyone, for no readily apparent reason. He’ll pick fights with anyone and anything, from Bella and Kes to the half-German Shepherd-half-Rottweilder dog to random neighbour animals for, apparently, the sheer hell of it.
He is also by far the smallest resident of this house, and gets his ass handed to him every time he tries. Which teaches him, consistently, that next time he just needs to try harder.
My other head cannon is: Dark trying to manipulate and scare you and youre just like "Look, Im all for the tall, dark, and manipulative, I really am but ya gotta try harder than that" and Dark takes this as a challenge so he keeps trying. One day he does something that makes your heart jump but you laugh and say "dude, look, I work on horror movie sets doing gore special effects makeup, you need to try harder!"
Dude yes, he’s definitely like ALWAYS trying to freak you out and shit but you’re just overall unimpressed and it just infuriates him 😅
What's super frustrating is when you try and calmly explain what fujoshi and other terms actually mean, where they came from etc and the response you get is like "Um no??? Tumblr told me it meant X so that's what it must mean!!!" It's like talking to a brick wall tbh.
yes. it is like talking to a damn brick wall. the number of times I’ve said shit to antis and had it fly right over their heads is amazing. i.e. “If you have a problem with fujoshi, you need to call out specific people, specific behaviors, not just blanket statements like ‘fujoshi are homophobic’.” and the response I got? “I’m calling out a specific group of people. Fujoshis, because they’re homophobic.”
In theory, Harry and Niall shouldn’t mesh very well.
Niall is much too gentle and kind, too emotional and vocal for a callus, tough and introverted person like Harry. Niall was the blonde haired, blue eyed boy next door type that your mother loves whilst Harry was the teenage rebel type that your father would never let within ten feet of you. In theory, Harry and Niall wouldn’t work.
In reality, Harry and Niall really, really work.
Of course, sometimes when Harry is grumpy or Niall is tired, they fight a little bit more intensely than most couples, but they always figured it out.
Niall was a uni student, plain and simple. He was studying creative writing in hopes that he might actually get a chance at his dream job, and Harry supported him, despite his unspoken doubts. Harry on the other hand had decided to forgo the uni process seeing as he already had his dream job owning his own bakery.
“Haz? You home?” Niall calls as he drops his book bag to the side table near the door of Harry’s flat. Because Niall lived in a flat with 2 of his mates, Harry’s apartment had basically become Niall’s home as well (more than half of Niall’s things were at Harry’s, anyway).
“Yeah babe, in the kitchen.” Harry calls back and Niall grins in content as he sees his boyfriend pulling what smells like brownies out of the oven.
“Hey.” Niall says, sighing dreamily like he always does. Harry puts the tray down and shucks off his oven mitts, giving Niall one of his rare grins and walking over to his blonde boyfriend.
“Hey there.” He responds, kissing Niall’s nose and hugging him tightly to his chest.
Niall hums in pure joy, “Missed you.” He mumbles and Harry nods in agreement. “What’re you baking?”
“Chocolate cake.” Harry says and Niall nearly moans at the sound.
“I love you.” Niall says and Harry laughs out loud, making Niall grin in self-approval.
“Not for you, fattie.” Harry jabs playfully making Niall gasp in mock offense.
Niall lets go of Harry momentarily, feigning shock. “Harry Styles!” Niall shouts, “You always say I look skinny in these jeans.” He says, pouting dramatically.
Harry grins, rolling his eyes. “You’re nearly too skinny, babe. Look at your little legs, there isn’t any fat on your body… except for your fat arse.” Harry says, making Niall squeal.
“Oh my god!” Niall says loudly, using both of his hands to cover his butt. “You pervert.”
“You love it.” Harry says casually, testing the cakes warmth subconsciously with a butter knife.
Niall stares at his boyfriend lovingly. “I love you, yeah.” he says in all seriousness.
Harry takes a minute to spare a glance at his suddenly serious boyfriend and tries to conceal a heavy sigh. He knows that Niall is rightfully looking for some kind of approval from Harry- any kind of hint that Harry is feeling the same- but Harry just can’t. He hates himself for it, but he can’t make his mouth move to make words to formulate just how he feels about Niall. He isn’t a writer like Niall, he doesn’t have the articulate and impressive words about him like his boyfriend. He hasn’t read the classic romantic novels like Niall and he doesn’t watch romantic comedies unless he’s with Niall and he just feels so inferior compared to his boyfriend. Niall, of course, doesn’t know that and wouldn’t understand it, so Harry doesn’t even try to explain.
Harry ends up nodding awkwardly and turning back to his baking, trying to ignore the fact that he can nearly hear Niall’s heart breaking. He faintly hears Niall’s footsteps leaving the room, and once he hears the bedroom door click shut he relaxes against the kitchen cabinet, mentally punching himself in the face.
Niall comes out of the bedroom about an hour later, looking tired and upset and Harry knows its going to be one of those nights. Harry’s already started on dinner, Niall’s favorite dish of mac and cheese– fancy style. Niall takes one look at the food and puts on what must be his brave face, looking Harry in the eyes. “Harry, I have to go home now.” He says, his voice quivering as he spoke Harry’s full name.
“What?” Harry asks, dumbfounded. He knew Niall laws upset, but Niall was never too upset to skip his favorite dinner. “Ni…” He started.
“No, Haz, I know. I’m sorry you made my favorite, that’s really so sweet.” The blonde says and Harry almost believes him. “But, Zayn and Liam need my help… cooking tonight. So I have to go.” Niall says, making Harry scoff.
Niall couldn’t cook for shit, that’s why Harry was always the chef of their relationship. Zayn and Liam would never call Niall for cooking help, unless they were asking for Harry. Niall was a terrible liar and Harry could see right through him, Harry just couldn’t understand why Niall was lying. Never before had Niall been this… “not-upset” at Harry not being able to say his feelings. Usually the night would start with eating dinner, then a blow-up fight directly afters, 20 minutes of the silent treatment from Niall’s end, and then end with an entire night of passionate and intense make-up sex.
“Okay.” Harry says quietly, ignoring the pang in his chest as Niall just stands with a tight look on his face. The blonde stands there for a second, as if he’s waiting for something, and then he shakes his head rapidly and ends whatever trance he was in. Niall gives Harry an unconvincing, small smile and walks out of the kitchen with one hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, something that Niall only does when he’s about to cry. He has little nail marks indented in his skin from where he scratches himself whilst trying not to cry. Harry’s heart feels like it’s just been stamped on.
The front door shuts quietly, and Harry huffs, confusion thick in the air. ‘what the hell just happened?’ he thinks to himself as the oven’s timer beeps, admitting that the mac and cheese was done.
* * * *
He calls Liam later that night. He and Liam were pretty close before Harry even met Niall. Liam and Harry’s best friend, Louis were fuck buddies all throughout Louis’ college career. Harry’s not really sure where their relationship lies, but he isn’t calling to talk about LiLo. “Hey, Liam.” Harry says quietly.
Liam’s delayed response tells Harry something straight away. “What do you want, man?” Liam says, in that voice that is definitely angry but truing to stay civil.
“What the hell is happening, Liam? Niall completely walked out on me today saying you and Zayn needed him to cook?” Harry mumbles. “I know I probably did something wrong, I just need someone ego tell me what. I’ll apologize to him a million times, please.” Harry begs and he hates how desperate he sounds but it’s all so necessary.
Liam heaves out a long and heavy sigh. “Look he came home crying and he still is somewhere around here cuddled up with Zayn. He hasn’t told me anything straight up but I’m sure it’s because you can’t man up and tell him how you feel.” Liam says bluntly, completely out of character of his usual self, but it made sense seeing as everyone associated with Niall is usually fiercely protective of him. Anyway, if Liam seemed protective over Niall, you don’t want to even begin thinking about Zayn’s fierce and ugly over-protectiveness over his best friend.
Harry closes his eyes. “I know. I know. It’s just… I know how I feel I just can’t tell him. I try so hard-”
“You need to try harder.” Liam says. “Look, dude, I love you and Niall and I want you guys to both be happy, but maybe you two can’t make each other happy.”
“He makes me so happy, Liam, you don’t understand…”
Liam sighs one last time. “Harry, I understand all too well. I know he makes you happy. But you don’t make him happy.” Liam says and that feels like a punch to the gut.
Harry’s breath is taken away from him for a second, and he can’t even begin to understand how that statement alone made him feel.
He doesn’t respond to Liam, and his brown eyed friend seems to understand. “I’m sorry, Harry, but that’s the truth. I have to go now. You should call Louis, he’ll be able to help you through this.”
Harry hangs up because what is this? He and Niall haven’t broken up. Yet.
He shakes his head, clearing his own thoughts because they won’t break up. They. Will. Not. Harry’s palms are sweaty and his breathing is becoming uneven just at the thought of loosing Niall.
He dials Louis’ number quickly, and spends the rest of the night crying to his best friend because he’s too much of a fuck up to tell his true feelings.
* * * *
Harry doesn’t go to work the next day because he’s too busy preparing. He had gotten a text from Niall that morning saying that he would be coming over around 5 without any other explanation. Harry’s beyond nervous when Niall’s voice rings throughout his flat half past 4. He’s thirty minutes early and Harry was not prepared. “Haz?” he calls softly.
Harry near jumps out of his skin before slowly making his way to the living room. “Ni.” He greets, shuffling closer to the blonde, who flinches away.
“We have to talk.” Niall says and Harry’s heart drops to his shoes. Those were four words he never wanted to hear from Niall.
Harry doesn’t say a word so Niall continues on his own. “I… I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. I just… I love you so much Harry.” he admits and the first tears start falling. “And I know– well, I think that you love me too.” Niall infers, but Harry can’t move. Niall sighs. “But you don’t ever give me one indication that any of this means anything to you and I can’t do it anymore.” He stutters, just like Harry’s heart.
Finally, Harry can think again, speak again, move again. Instantly he’s shaking his head, denying it all, not allowing any of it. “Yes we can, we can figure it out, Niall, we always do.”
“No, Harry, we don’t. We fight and then I get blinded by my love and I’m stuck in the same one sided relationship all over again! Harry!” Niall says, his voice slowly raising. “How would you feel if I just never said any words of love to you anymore. I never said ‘I love you’ or even a simple ‘I missed you’? How would you like it?” Niall says angrily, wiping tears from his face. “I can’t do it anymore. I have given and given and you have it all I have no more to give because I’m receiving nothing from you!” Niall says, his voice going soft again. “So, I- I have to leave.” Niall says and Harry can tell that the blonde literally thinks that there’s no other option opposed to leaving.
“Niall, please.” Harry gasps out, feeling the panic rising in his throat at the prospect of Niall leaving him. “You can’t leave me.” He begs, tears coming to his eyes.
The Irish boy doesn’t look back as he gets up, walking towards the door.
“Niall!” Harry says desperately, getting onto his knees and facing Niall in an apologetic position. “Please, Niall, please.” He begs in a whisper. Niall stops at the doorway. Harry stares at the back of the man he loves in absolute agony. Hopeless and heartbroken, Harry rasps, “Niall ,please, I can’t breathe without you.”
The blonde turns on a hell, tears continuously streaming down his face.
“That’s the o-only way I can describe it Niall. It’s like I’m a fish out of water without you, I can’t breathe I wouldn’t want to– without you. Without you I’d be nothing. I’m sorry that I’m not as articulate as you when it comes to words but I will always try my best to show you how much you mean to me from now on till forever. Please, Niall, you mean the world to me. Please, give me another chance to prove that I’m it for you like you’re it for me.” Harry begs, and Niall falls to the ground with Harry, hugging him tightly as he cries along with the brunette.
“I can’t breathe without you either.” Niall promises in heaved breaths after they’ve both stopped sobbing all over each other. Both of their faces are red and splotchy and wet and Harry can’t stop blubbering analogies that finally describe how he feels about his boyfriend but it’s all so perfect.
Niall is sniffling in Harry’s neck as he clarifies, “If you break your promise Zayn is gonna kick your ass, Harry Styles.”
Harry grins, hugging his boyfriend more tightly. “You don’t have to worry about that.” He tells the blue eyed boy as he pulls away slightly. “You’re it.” Harry says and Niall grins. It’s not exactly what he wanted, but he understands what Harry means.
“You’re it too.”
aw :) narry is just too fun :) Thanks so much for reading! (sorry for typos)
School is killing me as in I’m literally dying haahhahahahahahahah :( Tumblr is my only escape and I only get to update like once a week so it’s G R E A T
An A-Z Guide to Making Your Indie Rock Band Not Suck in 2014
Indie dudes in indie bands: Can you just put everything down and stop for a second? Literally everyone else making music: You are OK. Carry on with what you are doing. Jazz singers, old guys in shitty blues cover bands, art kids layering their voices into shimmering soundscapes usingMelodyne, next-levelers coming up with drone metal/Philly disco hybrids, Satanic choirs, DJs who perform using wind-up gramophones… literally everyone except indie dudes in indie bands, just keep on keeping on. (Note: for the purposes of this article, girls can be dudes too.) This A-to-Z is of no use to you. You are already saved: go treat yourself to a Snickers.
Now, indie dudes, I’ve got something for you to read. Print it out and put it on your fridge Or just continue to stare out of the window, composing lyrics about your ex who won’t give you your skateboard back and coming up with chord changes that even that bald Mormon sex-case Will Oldham would have thrown away for being too insipid. The choice is yours.
A is for Anarchy: In all creative enterprises there is no authority greater than yourself. The second you start chasing fads you are dead in the water artistically. Plus, unless you’re extremely lucky, it won’t do you any commercial favors either. For example, if your unsigned band has a triangle in its name as a replacement for the letter A, why not instead form a new band that dresses in giant turd costumes and hats made out of plastic dog shit and rename yourself Fecal Fred and the Fucking Turd Hats? You will literally have more of a chance of getting signed and acquiring an audience than you will by chasing after 2009’s lamest and most insubstantial trend. Think for yourself—it doesn’t cost anything.
B is for Bullshit: Don’t believe in rock mythology. None of it is true. Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips penned such classics as “Should We Keep the Severed Head Awake??” and “Oh My Pregnant Head (Labia in the Sunlight),” but do you know how many times he took LSD ever? Four times. When I was in a band (who you will not have heard of), we used to take LSD at every practice. The more scientifically-minded among you will be able to find some correlation between these two facts.